Nearly a Dozen
by Gabigail
Summary: The BAU assist Wisconsin police in tracking down a serial rapist murderer.


Disclaimer: Criminal Minds and its characters are the creation of Jeff Davis and are copy written under CBS (as far as I can tell). No infringement upon their rights is intended. The stories written under the penname Gabigail, however, do belong to me. None are written for profit and are intended for entertainment purposes only.

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He thought that once he faced his demon, he would be able to return to that which he considered normal. No more nightmares of the trigger-happy un-sub who thoughtlessly blew to bits six of his agents, along with the victim. Miss calculations can happen, but with Special Agent Jason Gideon, this was a first. Normal? What was normal? Another case to consume him, another case to reinforce his ability to do his job and to surpass the expectations the mere mention of his name evoked in those around him. Expectations and wonder at how he accomplished what he had and still maintain a thread of sanity. Hiding. That's how he accomplished such a feat. 

As usual, he was the first to arrive, only five in the morning; and one could always find him tucked away in his office. A place that felt more like home to him than the modest bungalow he had once shared with a family. An intelligent, beautiful wife, Karen and two loving children, a son named Steven and a daughter named Abby. Unfortunately, one of the by-products of the job are the long hours spent eating, sleeping and living said job. All of which leave very little time for an actual existence beyond it. A lesson Jason learned the hard way; as he quickly became more and more attached to his job, his personal life unravelled. So as the team filed in, no one is surprised that his door is wide open, with him more than likely hunched over his desk working.

If any of them had bothered to look in on him, they would be right; and sitting behind his desk in his almost overly cluttered office, is Jason Gideon, shuffling though forgotten paperwork. Finally plucking his lightweight wire glasses from the thin bridge of his nose, he lets out a sigh as he places them on the quasi-disordered file that is sprawled open upon many others, which would remind one of how Rome is built upon itself. Absently rubbing at his temples. He holds up a photograph in recognition of a case from a few weeks back and the details seem to flood over him, as though it only happened yesterday. So engrossed in his recollection, he hardly notices when J.J. taps her light pink painted fingertips on the metal doorframe.

"The media hasn't gotten their greedy little hands on this as yet." Her voice startling him, and as his head snaps up, his brown eyes meet her usually sparkling baby blues.

"I'm sorry?" surprise is still evident in his response, as she walks towards the desk occupied by what looks to be more paper than resides in the records room. Holding out the file towards him, he replaces his glasses, and proceeds to open it. "You mean to tell me that this hasn't been leaked out to the press?"

"I have yet to see something indicating that they have any information on these findings. Essentially, this is a very hush-hush case right now." She replies.

"The local police are asking for our help? Or is this something that's just come in over the wire?"

"It's a little of both. It came in over the wire early this morning; the official request itself came in a little over a half hour ago. I just had to get the paperwork together and cut through some of their very thick red tape." She turns to leave.

"I see. Have you brought this to Hotchner's attention?" she looks down for a moment before responding, her eyes darkening. She's hiding something, he muses, as he softens his expression enough to lull her into thinking that she's in the clear.

"Not as yet. He's been in meetings most of this morning, and if agent Turnball has anything to say about it, probably for the rest of the day."

"We'll have to catch him long enough to bring him up to speed, so when he joins us in the field he'll know what he's in for." Gideon shakes his head and continues to stare at the crime scene photograph. J.J. can tell in an instant that something is troubling him, that something isn't quite right and he's attempting to put a finger on it.

"Would you like me to assemble the BAU team then?"

"Have you already made them aware of the situation?" he can tell by her body language that she hasn't, nor does she seem very comfortable in not telling Hotchner first. These simple indications allow him to easily deduce that her discomfort stems from his absence after Boston and his first encounter with Bale. Compound that with his second brush with the trigger-happy bomber and even Hotchner had become highly aware, or perhaps sensitive of the slight change in his behaviour. Gideon knew that he was under 'surveillance' so to speak. Any indication of a downward spiral and Hotchner was to take the lead. No one had told him, no one needed to, he already knew, and yet knew how much the team needed him, or at the very least hoped that they needed him.

Pushing his chair back he nearly jumps to his feet. "Make them aware that we are going to assemble in the media room. I'm going to track down Hotchner and update him on our current situation." He reassembles the contents of the file and closes it.

"I'm not sure if interrupting their meeting is a good idea." She stands aside, allowing him to rush down the corridor towards the conference room. "Seriously Gideon." She adds, as she dashes after him. Eyes glance up from paperwork, then on each other.

"What's gotten into him now?" Morgan questions, rolling his eyes.

"A case?" Elle replies just before taking another much-needed sip of coffee.

"I hope he doesn't compromise his position by doing that." Reid adds under his breath as they continue their moment of what if.

Meanwhile, in the conference room, Hotchner feeling as though he is being questioned by the Spanish Inquisition, sits himself back in his seat, patiently waiting for his moment to speak on the subject of Gideon, his colleague, and friend.

"Agent Gideon and I have worked together for several years. In this time I have seen the highs and the lows, the latter of which I am sure is the root cause for this meeting."

"That is a correct conclusion."

"As far as I can tell. He is healthy. He has had no major setbacks since returning from his medical leave where upon I agreed with Agent Moore in slowly reintroducing him to his duties. He retuned as a lecturer here at Quantico, until the kidnapping case. I have done all that you have requested of me. I see no reason as to why Jason cannot return to full duty." Hotchner picks up the glass of water and slowly, almost methodically brings it to his lips and takes a sip not breaking eye contact.

The door suddenly flies open, almost ripped from its hinges by the force, and in strides Gideon, a nervous J.J. on his heels. She wears the expression of I tried to stop him, but everyone in that room is well aware of how difficult that would be, even on a good day. His determination is etched on his face and in response Hotchner immediately springs to his feet.

"Give us a moment." He says almost over his shoulder as they leave the room. "Jason, I know how some cases can work their way under your skin."

"This isn't just any case." He replies in a sharp huff.

"I realise that, however, this outburst isn't helping your case."

"Helping my case? I'm sorry, but I don't follow." He pauses and stops Hotchner from answering. "That in there is what you warned me about a few weeks ago. After my interview with Bale and the one with his lawyer." Hotchner nods his head sympathetically. "They don't think I'm fit to continue?"

"We need you on our team Jason, you are the best we have. You're guidance for our up and coming profilers will be paralleled by no one."

"Hotch, don't worry about me. They will do whatever they see fit. What you have to say in my defence, good or bad, bears very little consequence." Gideon's gaze softens. "On a more pressing note, J.J. has received an official request for our assistance in Wisconsin."

Sitting around the small table in the media room, the team listen intently as Gideon continues his explanation. "Several bodies have turned up on a stretch of highway number thirteen between Philips and Fifield on the Chequamegon National Forest side."

"The English translation of Chequamegon is place of the shallow water. It's well known to locals and tourists for it's fishing and canoeing." Reid awkwardly interrupts Gideon's train of thought. Gideon's warm expression calms Reid's nerves and he sits back, twiddling the pen between pasty, thin fingers.

"As it stands there are six victims, all female, all by the looks of it brutally raped and murdered. Local PD are unsure as to whether or not they were raped and murdered at another location and dumped there, or if they were taken to that location and raped and finally murdered. Six bodies indicates to me either more than one un-sub or an extreme escalation. Detective Hall has mentioned that over the past few months the bodies of dead teenage girls, between the ages of fifteen and nineteen have been turning up at that location, discovered by hikers. One or two have been reported to police by out of state anglers, as bodies appear to also be washing up upon the shallow shore." Gideon's gaze falls on Hotchner, who wears an unreadable expression, seemingly mentally evaluating Gideon's behaviour. "We'll meet at the strip in twenty minutes." He adds as the team makes their move to prepare for their departure.

"J.J. I need a moment please." Hotchner's rich tone resonates over the bustle.

"You don't need to tell me. Those meetings were pertaining to Gideon. Am I right?" he seems almost taken aback at her candidness.

"They were. I suppose Agent Turnball won't be impressed by Gideon's outburst."

"Hotch, I tried to stop him."

"He doesn't care what they think of him. I don't see how they can relieve him of his duties. We've done all that they have asked of us— Keep a close eye on him, step in for any reason if we think that he's out of line, and relieve him temporarily of duty, which thankfully we haven't had to do." Her smile is weak, as she nods her understanding. "Now I have to go back in there and tell them that today's meetings have to be rescheduled. We have what looks to be a serial rapist murderer on our hands." He shakes his head as they head out, parting in the hallway, he heads to the conference room and J.J. to her office to prepare for the very interesting press conference that she knows she will have to give.

"It appears that local authorities have more than sufficiently blocked off the area, making it very difficult for the media to show you pictures." The voice over of a news reporter is heard as a helicopter attempts to get pictures. Unfortunately, for them, local police have set up large canopies, making overhead shots impossible for the media to gather. They had also blocked off all traffic to highway thirteen, and closing the parking lot, keeping locals and tourists clear of the area. "This is the most commotion we've seen in many years." The news reporter continues speaking. "We will update you as information becomes available to us."

For some strange reason, conversation is kept to a minimum, a few thoughts here and there, but for the most part everyone is in their seat silently reading over their file, sleeping, or reading something unrelated to the case. As the plane approaches its landing, the mid afternoon sun is brightly shining, funny when the team knows the horrific situation they will be planted into. The plane gracefully descends and touches down. Almost as solemnly as their trip in the air, the team collect their effects and disembark; slightly surprised to find detectives Hall and Wilson waiting on the tarmac. Glancing over at Morgan, Elle can see that he wears the same expression as Reid. Gideon hangs back, bringing up the rear.

"Special Agent Hotchner, this is Detective Wilson. He specialises in these kinds of crimes." She steps aside after shaking Hotchner's hand, he turns to the other detective and greets him in the same manner. "This is Special Agent Gideon." She adds and Wilson appears to be taken aback.

"It's an honour to be working with you. Your reputation precedes you." He adds, taking great pleasure in shaking the hand of one of the BAU's most talented profilers.

"Good to meet you." He replies quietly.

"We thought that we had better not waste any time in showing you the scene. Night will fall soon enough, and we won't have the advantage of the natural light." Hall says as she leads them to the awaiting cars. "Once we've gone through the crime scene, you can unpack." She gets into the car with Gideon, Elle, and Reid, while Wilson takes Morgan, Hotchner and J.J. Hotchner can appreciate her need to show them the crime scene before the next morning. As they approach Chequamegon National Forest, the media seem to be in a frenzy to get photographs of those coming and going as well as others attempt to creep beyond the barricade. Granted clearance, Hall drives closer to where a large group of forensic scientists work. Crime scene photographers take pictures of various articles, which are marked by small plastic yellow plaques and the medical examiner is carefully zipping another black body bag, the young face cutting the agents to the core.

"They're still cleaning up?" Morgan utters under his breath as another medical examiner passes to assist with another body.

"We wanted to be as through as possible. We don't want any mistakes." Hall replies as they carefully walk down the steep embankment, the sandy dirt underfoot making it difficult for J.J. to not fall and break her ankle in her high heeled boots. "Sensible footwear is usually a good idea." She adds with a smirk.

"I wasn't expecting to be brought straight to the scene. Usually, we head to the station and set up, and then hit the crime scene. How many more bodies have turned up?" she adds following the rest of the group towards the water.

"They've just finished a preliminary troll of the lake. Tomorrow I think the divers will be doing their thing." Wilson cuts in and helps J.J. over a difficult patch.

"Thanks." She catches up to the team.

"It is possible that this is the only crime scene, that the bodies weren't dumped from a primary site." Reid looks over the facts in his file and turns back towards the water. "Are there any cabins, or shelters on the property?"

"Only the rangers offices and outposts." Wilson fills them in as they continue off the beaten path. Elle bends down, using her pen, she uncovers a piece of jewellery.

"I'll have them catalogue it. Once the autopsies are complete and we have names, I'll notify the families and they will be able to collect their daughter and any personal items we uncover." Hall seems so clinical and that rubs Elle the wrong way. She keeps her gaze even and nods her understanding as she stands to her full height.

It isn't long before the sun begins its descent and seems to quickly fall behind the trees.

"We'll pack it in then. We should have a working profile for you in the morning. Are you going to have officers guard the area over night?" Hotchner turns towards Wilson.

"Yes, under the circumstances and the attention that your arrival will provoke, we think that it's for the best. We'll drop you off at your hotel and have a few uniforms pick you up tomorrow morning." Hall maintains her tone of authority as the group head back towards the cars.

Strapped into the seat beside him, she winces against the pain, as the blood seems to gush from the head wound. Her head somewhat hangs a bit raggedy as she closes her eyes and prays for an end, hopes that he'll get board and let her out of the car close enough to town for her to get some help. As he drives he turns on the radio and lets the music fill the car, the music causing her head to pound harder than it had when they had begun this journey.

"Please."

"Oh you want some more do you?"

"No, please let me go." She hardly whispers as her breath shortens, dizziness taking over. He pulls the car just off the road, far enough away from the mass gravesite. Getting out, he walks around the car to the passenger side and opens the door. She is unable to find her feet, but it's no matter, for he quickly scoops up her small frame with ease and carries her off to a secluded place. He gently lays her out on the cool dewy grass under a tree, the light of the moon and stars being filtered by its leaves as they dance in the gentle breeze. Pulling out the knife, he cool blade across her blouse, freeing her of the soft material, her bra follows. His body's reaction is more than she can take and she closes her eyes against the knowledge that his face will most likely be the last she sees as he brings his lips towards hers and brushing them tenderly. Wishing for some sort of end, she is finally rewarded by passing out, as she feels his full weight pressing against her body.

Moaning against the pain that resonates throughout her body, her eyes slowly open, yet she is completely unaware of her surroundings. The grass underneath her is warm, as what heat her body holds has warmed it underneath. However, while it may be warm, it is also very wet. Moving her head side to side, as though it will assist in her gaining her bearings, she finally attempts to lift her head. The result is the sharpest pain thumping its protest against further movement. As her breath becomes increasingly shallow, she can hear the comforting sound of tires on asphalt as a car continues up the road, and unknowingly passes by. Once it's out of earshot, she lifts her fingers and can see that the wetness underneath is her blood. Shedding tears of realisation that this night's chilly caress will be the last thing she will remember; that and his face. She shivers against the sudden cold that's crept throughout her body, shivering against the blood loss, her eyes begin to feel extremely heavy and growing increasingly weary, finally allows them to close, drifting off to sleep.

Arriving at the police station, the team quickly find places to sit amongst the officers working on the case. Gideon straightens his shoulders back as all eyes are on him and he gestures that they will begin. Glancing over at Hall, his lips seem to tighten.

"Before I begin by getting into the profile," he pauses, clasping his hands in front of himself as he so often does, "I trust that once the bodies have been identified, your team will match them up with missing persons reports prior to contacting the families. At the very least, they deserve closure." She nods her understanding, leans back against a desk and crosses her arms in front of her.

"It appears that our un-sub has been doing this for quite some time. He's probably in his mid twenties to early thirties and has some major issues."

"Not only with himself, but with women as well." Elle interjects and Gideon looks down at his hands for a moment. Unclasping them, he seems to communicate with them almost as much as his words.

"Elle is right. The un-sub has issues that run far deeper than a simple rejection during puberty. This has a lot to do with completely dominating another person. Sure, she may have unknowingly rejected him at a function; a party, let's say. He takes this rejection a little more seriously then your average young man. Unable to brush it off, he takes it very personally."

"So what you're saying is that it's possible that he knows his victims. Perhaps meeting them at social gatherings? I would have thought someone that had deep rooted issues would tend to be on the anti-social side. Hiding his inadequacies and preying upon his victims when they least expected it."

"They don't expect it. He's the quote un-quote, nice guy, who offers his intended victim a ride home after her boyfriend has had too much to drink. He's not the kind who would attack his victim at the party." Hotchner adds, standing straight and moving over to another desk, which he leans against.

"He may have shown his intentions, by chatting her up, by alluding to something more. Her response to his invitation may have simply been that she had a boyfriend. That, albeit small, rejection is enough to put our un-sub into the mode that causes him to complete the pattern of behaviour, which is to say that his mind seems to relive the time of his first rejection. Therefore, somewhere along the line, he's done this to someone, perhaps a girlfriend who refused him sexually. This behaviour obviously stems from a very broken household. I would bet that in some way shape or form he has been mentally and emotionally abused, probably physically and quite possibly sexually. He's a young man with a lot of pent up anger and finds his release through the raping and murdering of these young women."

"As Gideon mentioned the first murder was probably his girlfriend. This would explain why the young women are between the age of fifteen and nineteen."

"He's mentally still a teen?" an officer almost has to cover her mouth.

"It's quite possible that he has somehow managed to maintain that mentality. Perhaps he works at the corner gas station or maybe a local hardware store." Morgan adds from the back of the room.

"We have our work cut out for us." Hall almost rolls her eyes. "We'll switch up and I'll have Wilson brief the other group on the situation, so that they know what they should be looking for. I want to move quickly, yet carefully. I want no mistakes." Squaring her shoulders she makes her way to her office.

"Excuse me, Agent Gideon?" an officer breaks into the busy station. Gideon beckons him.

"Yes?"

"There's been another murder. We found the body this morning."

"That section of road was blocked off, there should have been no traffic either way. How?"

"You might want to see the scene. The forensic guys are already there gathering evidence, but we thought that you would want to see it as well."

"Hotch, I'll take Elle, Reid and Morgan with me." Hotchner gives him a knowing look as he and J.J. sprint off in the direction of Hall's office.

The drive feels like eternity as the officer guides the cruiser towards the site. Elle sits up front and quietly goes through the new case file while Gideon stares out the window.

"Was she reported missing?" Reid inquires.

"No, not missing per se. Her mother went to wake her this morning for school and freaked out because her bed hadn't been slept in."

"So she called police?" Morgan tilts his head in thought.

"Apparently she called all of Katrina's friends and none of then had seen her. They had attended a birthday party, it wrapped up at eleven and Katrina had a ten-thirty curfew."

"Her mother didn't check in on her before going to bed?" Gideon almost snorts.

"They share a great deal of trust." She replies and flips through the pages. "Guys they haven't identified the body as yet. This could be a coincidence, or someone else." Adding as the cruiser comes to a sudden halt.

"This would be the reason none of the officers heard or saw anything." Morgan states, getting out of the car and heading towards the group of forensic scientists and the medical examiner, who like them, had just arrived.

Gideon makes his way towards the body and crouches down beside her, looking at her injuries.

"Blunt force trauma to keep her in a quasi-lucid state." The medical examiner observes from over his shoulder. "Whatever he did to her, he wanted her to know and feel it." She adds as she finishes up her preliminary paperwork, gestures for the others to carefully pack up the body, and take it to be further examined.

"Then what? Left her here to die alone? He didn't cover her nakedness. There's no remorse." Gideon stands and looks around the scene and can only shake his head. "He knows that the police are looking for him. He probably knows that we're here."

"Yet he has nerve enough to continue his behaviour." Reid observes. "He's mocking us."

"I don't think he's smart enough." Elle shakes her head; her brunette locks bouncing around her shoulders and catching the suns warm glow.

"That or he cannot help himself." Gideon's comment more under his breath than anything. "He's sick."

"You don't mean that even if we catch him, we'll be lucky if the charges stick?" Elle stares at him for a long moment.

"His lawyer will advise a psychiatric evaluation and more likely than not, he'll end up on a psych ward." Gideon replies as they head back to the car.

"I don't dispute the fact that he's sick; that somewhere inside him, he's compelled to do what he does, but not paying for murder? Gideon! He's killed over six young women, how could you suggest that he's going to get some cushy sentence?" Elle's anger flushes across her face.

"Calm down. That's not our job to figure out." His voice is quiet and steady. That is something that he's always been good at, diffusing a hot situation. He puts a hand on her shoulder and she merely shakes her head in disgust and they turn back towards the car.

"Interviewing anyone who attended that party seems near impossible." Hall mumbles as Hotchner and J.J. set up in a small conference room. "There has to be a better way of doing this."

"Like what? Tell them that their friend has been murdered?" J.J. says coldly. Hotchner steals a sideways glance, not used to the usually bubbly blonde turning so cold and unfeeling.

"No, that would only make the problem worse." He says as the rest of the team meet them in the room. "Find anything of use?" he turns his attention to Gideon, who takes a seat.

"I'd say pretty much the same as the others. Her mother contacted police this morning. The body just happened to be found sooner rather than later due to what the officer claims to be a spot check in the surrounding area."

"The divers haven't turned up any more bodies so I'm capping it at eleven." Hall interrupts their meeting from the open door. Her usually ridged features now wear a tired expression.

"I thought there were six. Plus the recent find only makes seven." Morgan says from his seat.

"Last night they found four in the shallow water, that's why they wanted to have the divers in after the combing of the lake." She enlightens the group.

"So we're working with eleven victims? What did they have in common?" Morgan vocalises his thoughts.

"We'll leave that to you and Reid." Hotchner explains. "Elle, I need your help in interviewing some of the girls who attended the party." She writes a few notes on the page in front of her.

"Hotch, I'm going to ask specifically if any of the girls can remember a guest that they don't know very well, yet attends most, if not all of their social gatherings."

"That sounds like a fairly good start. If we can get a possible description of our un-sub."

"Then we're that much closer to nabbing him." Reid says hopeful of catching their un-sub.

Elle collects her list of party attendees and the description of their un-sub begins to take shape.

"Have you seen this man at any other social gathering that you and your friends attend?" Her question is in as warm a tone as she can muster, not wanting to scare the seventeen-year old sitting across from her, as the girl's mother beside her, holds her hand, probably feeling incredibly grateful that her daughter is alive.

"He's always around. He usually dresses in khaki pants, sometimes blue jeans. He wears loose fitting shirts with plain t-shirts underneath."

"What about his appearance, can you remember what he looks like?" Elle leans in to encourage the young woman to remember. If only one detail she will feel satisfied that she did her job.

"He's tall, kind of on the thin side. He has the oddest colour blue eyes. So deep it's like they were taken from the ocean itself. The reason I mention his eye colour is that his hair is a fiery red and he has a pale complexion, some freckles though. I hope that helps." She adds looking down at her delicate hands folded on the tabletop, the nails painted in a shade of light purple.

"Thank you Mrs. Thompson, Miss Thompson I really appreciate the information. You've done more than you think." Elle adds with a warm and inviting smile. The young woman tries to return the smile, but only manages a nod as she and her mother rise from their seats, before leaving Elle to mull over the description. How many more interviews would yield the same result? She wonders reading through her notes on the past five alone. All evidence pointing directly to one young man by the name of Carter Evans.

"Morgan!" she manages to catch his attention.

"What is it Elle?" he inquires as he enters the room, and closes the door behind him.

"Has the name Carter Evans come up?"

"I've interviewed a few guys who are regulars at the social gatherings around here. That name and a clear description." He replies as she scoots her file towards him across the table. "Really?" his eyebrow immediately shoots up. "I think I'd like to take a quick drive." He says.

"That's probably not a good idea. Last I hear there's going to be a party at the Logan home. Nothing big, just a few of the regulars celebrating the end of exams and graduation." She fills him in on the details.

"So instead, what? We send Reid?" he questions her with an expression of shock.

"Why not? He looks young enough to fit in." Elle stands.

"I don't know. I highly doubt that Gideon would allow us to put him in possible danger."

"You're right. Maybe we ought to pick him up and see what he has to say for himself." Her eyes narrow as if dying to get a piece of a punk who's violently raping and murdering young women.

"Easy there Elle." Morgan puts a hand up. "Keep your head."

"I'm fine." She replies making a dash for the door. Heading towards the office occupied by Hotchner, J.J., and Gideon, Elle interrupts their conversation. "Gideon, may I have a word please?" she motions to speak with him, he gives Hotchner a quick glace and nods.

The sun is warm on their faces as they walk towards the grass and a lone tree. Sitting underneath it, Elle looks up at Gideon.

"We have a name and a physical description of the un-sub. There's a party tonight. The likelihood of his attendance is almost guaranteed." She hugs her knees close to her chest and Gideon crouches beside her.

"What's on your mind Elle?" his voice is comforting in her ear.

"Pardon?" she looks away briefly.

"From your behaviour, it is clear to me that something beyond this case has you upset. If you need to talk, my ear is yours." He adds holding out a hand to help her to her feet, which she accepts and they continue to walk towards the street.

"It's nothing really, the case just has my stomach in tight knots. Eleven young women have died because of a sick man who is in some serious need of help." She presses her lips together. "On top of that, and more importantly, I'm worried about you."

"You're worried about me? Why?"

"Well you've been acting strangely." He stares at her slightly dumbfounded by her comment. "I keep telling myself it's nothing, that once you work through whatever it is that has you like this, everything will be as it once was."

"The way it was? Elle, you have to give me more then that." Her brown eyes darken despite the bright sun and she takes a deep breath.

"Ever since the Bale thing. I've noticed that you haven't been yourself. I'm not saying that you've let your work suffer, far from it. In fact you've been the first to dive head first into any case. Trying to forget something?" she pauses, stealing another sideways glance. "Anyways, I was going to offer you my ear should you need it. I know that you usually talk to Hotch and maybe it's easier for you, but if you ever need me. I'm here for you." Never the best at offering emotional support to co-workers, Elle contents herself to offer him a comforting smile and a quick pat on the back.

"You're right you know." She looks up at him, catching his profile. "Things haven't been the greatest. When that victim walked into the station wrapped up in what looked to be one of Bale's creations, my heart nearly stopped. I had hoped that you and Hotch would have apprehended Walker, but when I saw the blast, I thought I'd done it again."

"He took Bale's advice. I only wish you hadn't had to resort to such a low to get Bale to co-operate." She matches his stride and again he pauses mid-stride. "I remember you saying that when you interviewed him, he gave away the answer."

"True, but at the same time I could have been wrong and could have once again been out foxed by the fox." He replies.

"Gideon, you weren't and Bale will never take another breath of free air again. Don't forget that we're human and you cannot always expect to be right." He nudges her arm with his.

"I realise that, but Elle the job has become such a part of my life."

"You fear that they might take that from you? Gideon." She places herself in his full view so that he cannot dismiss her. "Jason, they won't take that from you." She holds onto his shoulders for emphasis. "You could, however, lighten up a bit." Her eyes light up and her grin widens.

"Thanks for the advice. I could always say the same to you, you know?" they laugh, walking through the parking lot back to the station. "Oh, and Elle? Not a word to the others about this." his expression is serious, and she responds with a wink.

"Morgan just let us in on your little idea Elle." Hotchner exclaims once they re-enter the office. Elle looks down for a moment before answering.

"The only thing we need is a reason to question him. I have a feeling that it may not be as easy as asking Mr. Evans if we could ask him a couple of questions." She sits in one of the vacant chairs beside Reid and lets her head rest against the chairs leather back.

"You're probably right, but I have a feeling that if we get him in here, Gideon will have him confessing to far more than the eleven victims we already have." Morgan says as he drums his fingers on the tabletop. Reid nods his agreement.

"If we could get him to speak with us willingly. Maybe we could get a confession without force." Reid puts the pen on the clean pad of paper in front of him. "Perhaps a chance encounter."

"Reid, I like where you're going with this." Morgan's smile widens.

"Right, chance encounter. Maybe Garcia can find out if he has a cellular phone and we can use the Global Positioning System to track him down."

"Then what?" J.J. closes the thick file in front of her.

"We get the answers we need." Hotchner replies agreeing to the plan. "J.J., how long can you put off the press conference?"

"I'm not sure, the media are probing for answers. The longer this remains a mystery the hungrier they become." She thinks for a moment. "Do you think you can find him before I give the press conference, or should I just go on with it?" Hotchner contemplates their situation.

"Continue on as though we don't have our un-sub. He's already killed the eleventh young woman since we've arrived. Let him feel as though he's a few more steps ahead of us." Gideon says, sitting on the edge of an old desk.

"Okay. Well I suppose it's show time then." Her reply. She stands and meets Hall in the hallway.

"I hope she doesn't get eaten alive." Reid says under his breath.

"She's been doing that job long enough to know how to handle herself.

Exiting the police station to a lone podium for her file, J.J. addresses the media, their questions and concerns pertaining to the commotion in the Chequamegon National Forest.

"Over the past few months several missing women were reported, however, state police had been unable to locate them. Ten bodies have been recovered in and around the area of the Chequamegon National Forest, found by hikers and anglers. The FBI's Behavioural Analysis Unit has been asked to assist in apprehending the individual responsible for these murders."

"Murders? They weren't hikers who slipped on the beaten trail?" a voice calls from somewhere in the back.

"Unfortunately, evidence at the crime scene indicates that these young women were repeatedly sexually assaulted and brutally murdered. Local PD are requesting anyone with information regarding the murders to come forward. We are unable to release the names of the victims at this time as we are still in the process of contacting next of kin. Once that has been completed, we will be able to release that information to the public."

"Wasn't there another body found just off of highway thirteen this morning?" another reporter hollers at J.J.

"Yes, however, it has not yet been confirmed that that victim is connected to those found in the Chequamegon National Forest. Thank you." She closes the file with her press notes and makes her way back inside.

"So now what?" Hall inquires.

"We wait."

"Wait?" Hall sighs loudly.

"Yes. Right now the un-sub still believes that we do not have any substantial leads in the case. He believes he's in the clear. Now if what Gideon thinks is true in any way, he'll strike tonight. He's a cocky one." J.J. steps back into the conference room where they had set up earlier and stares at the presentation board. In blue ink are the victims names, in black the location where they were found, and in red their last known whereabouts. All social gatherings, all attended by the popular students. Why would the un-sub attend such social gatherings if he's in any way anti-social? She wonders as she lets her file fall on the table.

"You did a good job at making them think we have nothing." Morgan comments from the door. "The tip line set up is ringing off the hook."

"That's nice." She replies quietly.

"What?"

"Have Hotch and Gideon already left to speak with the un-sub?"

"They took Reid with them. Left while you were chatting up the media. You really know your stuff." He gives her a toothy smile.

"I hope we're not too late."

"They won't be." He replies. "Why are you so tense about the situation?"

"Well I was thinking about the idea Elle had."

"NO! No way in hell would we send you to that party."

"If they miss him. It might be our last weapon." Crossing her arms she leans against the edge of the desk.

"Gideon won't put a member of his team in such a position, let alone you."

"What? Are you saying that I wouldn't be able to handle the situation?"

"Look, all I'm saying is that things should go as planned."

"What if they don't?" she tilts her head.

"Then we have a party to crash. Do you want a cup of coffee?" she nods and they head out to the officers break room for something that surprisingly tastes like coffee.

Gideon's assessment of their un-sub had been pretty bang on. They easily find Carter Evans working at the local hardware shop, thanks in part to Garcia's ability to track him down by his cell phone signal. Pushing the carts back into their metal shoot is a tall, lanky, red headed young man. He happens to be wearing a pair of light khaki pants and a short sleeved shirt underneath his uniform.

"Carter Evans?" Hotchner calls. The young man turns to face the men approaching him.

"That's me."

"We're with the FBI. Would it be possible for us to ask you a couple of questions?" Reid steps in, holding out his badge for the other man to see.

"Sure, um could you give a second to ask my manager if I can take my break early?" Gideon notes that his body language isn't that of a nervous, guilty person. Perhaps this is going to go one of two ways; the first being they completely have the wrong guy, or the second being that he's been trained in the fine art of lying.

"We've heard that you frequent local social gatherings." Gideon begins by cutting to the chase.

"I attend a few yes. My cousin's in high school and likes to have someone on hand in case things get out of hand." He replies. "Sometimes I drive his idiot friends home. They know they shouldn't be drinking, but a few of their friends are old enough to buy the stuff." He looks down at his shoes for a moment.

"You know this, yet allow them?"

"Look, they are in my cousins home. They don't usually get out of hand, there just kids having fun." He looks at Reid. "You wouldn't know anything about that would you?"

"I know enough." His reply as Hotchner gives Gideon the go at him nod.

"So you're basically there to make sure that things don't get out of hand." Gideon begins.

"Right. There had been times where things went a little crazy and I had to rescue him anyways."

"You mentioned that you've driven some of his friends home. Any of his friends of the fairer sex?" he tilts his head to the side, paying special attention to the angle of Carters head.

"A couple of times, when their stupid boyfriends drink too much, or smoke too much pot. Like I said. They're kids being kids. What else do you want from them? This is Wisconsin, what harm can a little partying do?"

"Quite a bit. Have you ever seen these young women?" Hotchner pulls out the file containing the medical examiners photos of the victims. Turning his head away, Reid can see Carter pale.

"Gideon, may I have a word?" Reid reaches out and taps his arm, he nods and they stand out of earshot. "I don't think he did it."

"I deduced that by a couple of key points he made. The first of which was his driving some of the girls home. If he had known they were dead, he wouldn't have."

"Paled so terribly?"

"Exactly. Hotchner." Gideon shakes his head no.

"Mr. Evans, thank you for your time. I'm sorry that we disturbed you." Hotchner extends a card towards the young man. "If there is anything that you can think of, don't hesitate to contact either myself or Agent Gideon."

"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind." He replies and returns to collecting the carts.

"Well that was a bust." Reid exclaims, getting into the back seat of their SUV.

The loud music seems to surround the home in the otherwise quiet neighbourhood. Students, having finished exams have found an excuse to have a party and the graduating class in particular celebrate not only their freedom from high school, but for some leaving their small town. Carter makes his way through the sea of people on the living room dance floor, checking to be sure that no one is intoxicated, after his little chat with the FBI, he doesn't wish to be responsible for any of those under twenty one.

"Hey Carter." A pretty blonde says in a teasingly sexy voice. "Want to dance?" she sways to the music and attempts to gyrate her hips against him. He politely smiles and leans in towards her.

"Have you seen Will?" he has to almost yell over the thumping bass.

"No, come to think of it. He did his rounds and went upstairs with some girl." She replies continuing to dance as a group of girls circle around her.

"Thanks." He calls and dashes up the steps two, nearly three at a time. "Will! Damn it." He adds under his breath. Carter knows how un-cool it is to open the various doors to the upstairs bedrooms when they are closed and what lies beyond is probably teenagers necking or worse, but he needs to know where his cousin is. Approaching the final door, the knot in his stomach now tightens as he hopes he will find Will.

"Hey, get the hell out of here!" a shirtless young man yells at him.

"Sorry." He apologises closing the door before further embarrassing the young girl. Heading back downstairs he's sure to ask anyone he comes across if they've seen Will. Each and every time he asks, the answer is the same. It's almost as though he. Oh my! His minds reels as he thinks that maybe his cousin is the one murdering those girls. Getting out his cell phone, he fishes for the card in his pocket.

"This is Agent Hotchner."

"Sir, it's Carter Evens."

"You'll have to speak up. The signal isn't very good."

"I think it's William." He blurts out as quickly as he can manage. "I can't find him and Lily is gone too."

"Does William drive a car?"

"Yes, a Ford Mustang. I can't think of the plate right now."

"Do you think that he has Lily?"

"I can't know for sure, but right now I can't find either of them. I've asked nearly everyone here, and no one has seen either of them since nine this evening."

"Thanks Carter." Hotchner snaps his phone closed and lets out a sharp breath.

Lily closes her eyes and can only hope that the blows will finally stop. Will smacks her once more for good measure, knowing that she will be unable to resist him. Opening the door, he drags her out of the car and pushes her into the abandoned barn.

"No, please. Will stop!" she begs as he tosses her down onto the dirt floor. Lily tries to catch her breath, but finds it difficult as he must have broken or cracked some of her ribs, the pressure on her lungs causing too much pain for deep breaths.

"Shut up! How DARE you deny me!" he exclaims smacking her across the face, she can hear a splinter like sound in her ears. Deciding that perhaps fighting isn't the smartest course of action, Lily takes small shallow breaths, and lets the tears of pain roll down her once alabaster cheeks, now bloodied and bruised. She attempts to bring her knees to her chest in hopes that the beating will end. "I'm sorry. I should never have hit you." His voice holding some emotion as he whispers in her ear. Too afraid to move, let alone answer him, she turns her head to the side and hopes that someone will find her.

Bathed in the moonlight, Will picks up Lily's limp unconscious body and puts her back in the seat, making sure the blanket covers her body so any blood doesn't seep into the black upholstery. Driving up the deserted road, he approaches highway thirteen and just catches the police presence. Unable to turn around, he covers Lily enough to make it appear that she's asleep and he's taking her home. Waving his car over to the side of the road, a state trooper, approaches the Mustang and Will presses the button the lower the window.

"Good evening there son." His voice is military and Will tries to maintain his cool.

"Good evening officer."

"May I see your license and registration please?" Will nods, as he removes his wallet to get out the needed pieces. "Mr. William Winters. You are under arrest for the rape and murder of eleven young women." The officer opens the door and yanks the young man out of the car. Throwing him up against the side, he quickly places the handcuffs and pats him down for weapons. The moan from the car startles the officer and he motions for another officer to join him. The female office opens the door and Lily nearly rolls out of the car.

"Miss. Are you all right?" Unable to speak, Lily merely moans. "Get an ambulance!" the officer screams, while her partner drags the young man off.

"Let him sweat it out for a moment Jason." Hotchner tries to keep the other agent in line. All Gideon wants to do is tear through the door and lay down the law, but at the same time, he also knows that the kid is scared witless and will be no good to them if they don't maintain their cool.

The interrogation room is painted cinderblock, much the same as an actual cell, the difference being that it's only décor is uncomfortable metal chairs, a cheap table a clock and the two way mirror. William Winters sits in one of the chairs, his hands on the table in front of him, his eyes glued to the clock on the wall. Concentrating so hard on the clock, the door being opened makes him physically jump in his seat.

"William Winters?" Gideon inquires, closing the door behind and takes the few steps towards the table. Pulling out the chair, he sits himself across from the young man. "I understand that you have been arrested for the rape and attempted murder of Lily Townsend." Gideon opens the file as though looking for something. William merely stares at Gideon. Elle stands behind the two way mirror with Hotchner.

"Are you okay Elle?" he asks as her gaze is frozen on the goings on in the next room.

"I will be, but that doesn't mean anything to those girls." She replies simply, as she tightens her crossed arms. They stand in silence watching as Gideon works his magic.

"I understand that Julia rejected you. That had to hurt."

"I loved her." he looks down at his hands for a moment. "I NEVER hurt her!" he nearly yells. Gideon reacts by taking the photo from the file.

"That's why she was found along with these young women?" his voice is soft and silky as he maintains a level tone.

"I'm not talking to you anymore. I want my lawyer." William snaps. Gideon sits back in his seat.

"Just so you are aware of your situation. You needn't say another word from this point on until he or she arrives. You're in a lot of trouble. It's not looking so good for you. You've brutally raped and murdered eleven young women and nearly a twelfth. You'll be very lucky if any judge will be lenient enough to sentence you in years rather than lifetimes." Standing Gideon gives William one final, penetrating look before heading out. Closing the door with a loud thud, Elle nearly laughs as their un-sub physically shudders against the sudden noise.

"How's that?" Gideon's stern looks softens as he realises what this young man is going to endure. Self-inflicted, but it will be brutal nonetheless. "Reid, you're the 'good' cop. See if you can't get something more out of him." Gideon says before taking a gulp of water from the water bottle. Reid straightens his shirt and quietly opens the door.

"Who are you?" William demands through clenched teeth.

"There's a reason why you've done what you have." Reid gestures to sit. William nods wondering where all of this will go. "I'm doctor Spencer Reid, by the way."

"William Winters." He says maintaining his level gaze on the glass of water sitting on the table in front of him.

"Who hurt you?" his question a hushed tone. William stares at him long and hard. "We know you were emotionally and physically abused. Were there sexual components as well?"

"What do you want me to say? My mother's boyfriend emasculated me?"

"That's a start. So when you're first girlfriend rejected you, you must have taken it pretty hard." Reid babbles in his usual nervous fashion. "But once you had your way with her, you couldn't have her telling anyone that you had raped her. Am I right?"

"I didn't rape her. She wanted it just as much as I did!"

"But you couldn't perform. Something was missing. The fact is she didn't want you as much as you wanted to prove your masculinity to her; more to the point yourself." Reid hit the final nerve.

"It was an accident. I swear. The others."

"The others reminded you of her. The second time, you thought that it would be easier." Reid pauses. "It wasn't, was it?" William shakes his head, hot tears roll down his cheeks. "You had to rape her too."

"No, no, NO! STOP IT!" William yells at the top of his lungs. So loudly in fact that the whole police station goes silent.

"Doctor Reid." Hotchner opens the door and Reid turns to look at him. "I think you've put the screws to him long enough." Nodding, Reid slips out of the chair, tucks it under the table and follows Hotchner out of the room.

"There's a confession and a half." Morgan sighs heavily. Glancing at her watch, J.J. makes a quick exit to meet with the press and brief the public on the current capture of Wisconsin's latest rapist/murderer.

Boarding the plane the team exhausted take their usual seats. Gideon, sits in his place near the rear of the plane and rereads the report, quickly dotting a few I's, he crosses the final T. With a sigh of contentment, he sits back and allows himself to be lulled by the jets engines. A few moments later, he is conscious of someone sitting in the vacant seat across from him. Usually, it's Reid, who slides in the seat, chessboard in tow. However, once he opens his eyes, he is surprised to find Elle. His eyes quickly scan the rest of the planes passengers, satisfied that they are asleep, he leans towards her.

"How are you holding up?" he inquires hardly above a whisper. She takes a moment to think before answering. They have had quite the case and of course she is elated in the fact that they managed to catch him before he murdered Lily. Yet at the same time, she feels as though they hadn't done enough.

"I'm pretty sure I've been better." She attempts a smile.

"Once the case is put to rest, you'll feel better." He reaches across the table and gently covers her hand with his, offering her a bit of comfort with a reassuring squeeze. She lifts her dark eyes to his and tilts her head.

"Maybe one day." She replies simply.

"I suppose that isn't really what's bothering you. Is it?"

"Damn your good." She looks away briefly. "I know, years of training."

"No, just time spent observing you." He sits back in his seat as Reid opens his eyes and the rest of the team seem to follow.

"Who's in for a quick game of poker?" Morgan's tone refreshed and happy. Gideon and Elle remain in their places as the rest of the team gather around the other table. "Come on Elle."

"I think I'll sit this one out." She answers, settling herself in her seat. Sitting sideways and leaning the side of her head on the seats back. Gideon returns to his private thoughts.

Entering his office, Gideon half expects to find the Spanish Inquisition awaiting his arrival. Instead, Hotchner sits in one of the only vacant chairs, besides the one tucked under his desk waiting.

"You're usually here early."

"Well I suppose I've had to put things into perspective. Or rather, I've taken the time to re-examine the things that I ought to have a while back." He smirks and pulls the chair out to set himself into it. Placing the coffee cup on his desk he gives Hotchner a particular look.

"I'm not sure how happy you're going to be by days end."

"I have always appreciated and respected your honesty. I trust that the meetings have resumed, or they have reached a conclusion." Hotchner can only manage a nod. "Well as I told you before, they had already made up their minds. It's only a matter of when."

"When?" Hotchner's look of confusion is met with Gideon shaking his head.

"When I get the boot."

"I don't see that happening anytime soon." Elle says from the door. Hotchner and Gideon both give her a rather serious expression.

"Elle, what have you done?" Hotchner sits straighter in his seat, his authority exposed.

"Nothing." She says with a quick wink, before heading down to the bullpen and her team.

"What was that about?" Gideon wonders out loud. Hotchner only keeps his stare cool. The next knock comes from someone Gideon doesn't wish to see.

"Doctor Tam. Please come in. This is Agent Hotchner."

"Yes, I've read your file. Agent Hotchner, if you wouldn't mind, but I have to borrow Agent Gideon."

"Not at all. J.J. mentioned a potential new case for the team. I'll fill them in and once you're finished here, we'll get you up to speed."

"Sounds good." Gideon replies, as Hotchner exists the office, closing the door, leaving the doctor with his very uncooperative patient.

So intent on moving everything forward and having Gideon back to full strength, Hotchner didn't notice Elle at his elbow.

"I see doctor Tam is having another go at Gideon." She says in a hushed tone, not knowing to what extent Hotchner is familiar with the situation. He stops in his tracks and shakes his head.

"I honestly don't see how it's going to help. Gideon is stubborn."

"To say the least." She cuts in and sighs.

"I've tried to tell him to just give the whole counselling thing a try."

"Maybe it isn't just the Bale thing that's got him." She pauses. "Is it possible that the whole footpath killer hold up is still effecting him?"

"We all have a part of us that we can't shut off. I almost forgot about that." They enter the conference room. "I'm sure that everything will be a go pretty soon."

"No more babysitting?" she takes a seat as Reid and Morgan enter the room, both sighing heavily.

"We just got back from Wisconsin. One would think that the serial killers out there could take a break once in a while."

"No such luck." J.J. swoops into the conference room and begins handing out the files. "A little girl has gone missing."

"How long?"

"At least three hours ago. Her mother thought that she was at a friends house, but when she went to pick her up, she wasn't there." Hotchner sits on a nearby table and skims the contents of his file.

"We'll need Gideon." Morgan states waiting for agreement from the others. Elle nods just as Gideon enters the room.

"Hotchner said that something is brewing." He states as J.J. hands him a file and he sits between Elle and Reid.

"We'll be leaving for San Francisco." J.J. says before wrapping up the meeting and the team prepares for departure.

"Gideon, wait up." Hotchner nearly has to jog to catch up. Gideon turns around and finishes putting his glasses in their case. "How did it go?"

"Better than I had expected."

"Is it safe to assume that you're back to full duties?" Gideon doesn't answer right away, enjoying the moment of making Hotchner sweat. A quick wink and nod before he's off to his office to pick up his carry on, leaving Hotchner standing in the hall with a broad smile, brightening his usually dark features. So glad to have you back, he muses. With a smirk he shakes his head, quickly following suit and collects his over night bag, waiting in his office for him to grab, lightly packed for a couple of days away from home.


End file.
